The last barrier of fabric between us was getting soaked, and I knew I wouldn't last long. "Help me get them off," I commanded. His hand skated along the waistband, playing with the skin there until one hand disappeared for a second, and the next was the sound of fabric ripping.
I looked down to see a knife in his hand, the front of the sweatpants already had a long slit down the front, and his smiling face looking up at me like the psycho he was. "You said to get them off," he yanked the two sides apart, the sweatpants in tatters on each side but still hooked around my ankles like his own personal chains on me. "This was the fastest way." He winked at me, and I bit my lip to keep my smile at bay.
If he knew that I found it funny and cute, he would do that shit all the time, and I didn't want to promote that behavior.
Giving him a smirk of my own, I grabbed his cock and positioned it right at my soaking entrance. Hunger gleamed in his eyes like a restless flame. A yearning flickered in those gorgeous eyes, anticipating what was to come. I ran my hand through his golden streaked locks, keeping his attention on me, and hesitated, knowing that there was no going back once I did this.
For a split second, I saw something raw in him. A silent plea. A desperate demand. And I was the only one who could answer it.
Leaning down, I brushed my lips along his, licking at the seam before plunging right in, kissing him with all that I had just as I impaled myself with his cock.
His whole body shuttered, and a guttural moan broke from his mouth. I swallowed it down, claiming it as mine with fervor. I rocked my hips slowly at first, making sure he felt every inch of me before I picked up the pace, but he had other thoughts.
Like the hold he had on his iron restraint broke, he circled his arms around me and flipped us still connected. He was kneeling on the bed in a seated position, holding my back up until he shoved me backward, and I fell onto the soft pillow. "I can't take it anymore."
His hand drifted up my stomach, cupping my breast, all while his dick twitched inside of me. It was maddening not to have him move, but letting him explore was also part of the fun. Especially when he grabbed both my pebbled nipples and yanked on them when he thrust inside of me. The duel sensations drove me wild, and I began panting so hard it was hard to think of anything but him and what he was doing.
"Your body is like the sun. I want to devour it with all of my being, but I feel like getting too much will burn me to a cinder." One hand drifted down, rubbing my clit as his thrust grew harder, deeper. "But I don't mind crisping up. The best part of fried chicken is the crispy parts."
Closing my eyes, I bit my lip to keep from laughing. It was either the cutest thing to say or the craziest. I guess it depends on your mood, but right now, as his cock was working its way so deep into my body I had to bend my back, I was taking it as a positive.
Also, the crispy parts were the best.
"Fuck," he cried out, grabbing at my hips like they were his last lifeline.
"Yes. Fuck, yes, Cezar. Fuck me." His eyes shined down at me like a green-eyed devil about to consume a delicious soul. His fingers dug into my hips, gripping so hard I knew I would have bruises afterward. His thrusts grew frantic, watching my body bounce as he fucked me so hard I closed my eyes and let out a silent scream.
Then the door clicked.
14
ION
What the fuck was all that about? Adjusting myself as I left Nicu’s room, I clenched my jaw. That woman was a fucking menace. Already she had turned this place into a madhouse, and she was the fucking prisoner!
Like a struck match, my anger flared. Heat spread throughout my body, filling me with this deafening roar. Clenching my hands, I stomped to the kitchen, cursing this woman and the curse she had put upon this house.
“I need some blow.” That would make me not give a fuck about her, maybe even come up with some good ideas to do with her once Nicu got his answers. Yeah. It could be useful if I got some coke. But no—he wants to keep me on a leash, acting like some saint. What’s next? Preaching to me about virtue?
Opening the refrigerator, I grabbed a Coca-Cola, and that familiar explosive rage fell over me again. Slamming the door closed and smacking the can into the table with a bang; I kept thinking about all the things I could do if he had just let me have cocaine.
“Here,” a plate with a sandwich was placed right before me. I looked up to see Nicu. “Eat this; you look like shit.” Where the fuck did he come from? Looking down at the plate, I realized I had to have been standing there complaining in my head for a while.
Watching him grab his plate and sit down, I noticed how rough he looked after dealing with that hellion Cezar picked up.
My perfect older brother’s hair was a mess, as if he had run his hand through it a million times. His clothes looked crossed in all the wrong places, which, for a control freak like him, had to drive him nuts. I was about to tell him just that when I noticed him sitting at the table with a plate of food, staring at it for the longest time. What the fuck was going on?
Taking the seat across from him, my stomach clenching up in pain, and I remembered I slept through breakfast. Devouring the plate in front of me, I talked between bites. “I didn't hurt her, no matter what Cezar tells you. I found her looking under your bed, and I captured her; not knowing why she was out of the room, we agreed to keep her in any way.”
Nicu sighed before taking a bite of his meal. “I'm sure he wanted to let her shower and go to the restroom. Since he likes her so much, he wanted to impress her or something along those lines. It's not hard to figure out.” Clenching my jaw, I let that subtle dig go, even though it made me want to punch something.
"Well, the next thing I knew, she was throwing kicks like she was in the UFC and nailed me right in the dick."
Phantom pain ran up my cock; my hand rubbed it just on instinct. It really fucking hurt.
“She was having a flashback.”
His easy tone had me doing a double take, gobbling up a few chips on my plate. “What the fuck does that mean? Flashback of what?”
